Wind
by xXXx Wilder xXXx
Summary: Ukitake's been snowed in. He's alone in his own quarters with a lonely stack of paperwork and a sorely tempting bed and the desire to do nothing but sleep. Talk about boredom....


**A/N:** Don't you just love those random fics that have titles with nothing to do with the story? I do. Anyway, this is kinda short and cute.... Not angsty like I had hoped.... Isn't angst delicious? Oh well. I haven't subitted anything in with Ukitake in awhile; I have to get back into the swing of things so I can write him an angsty birthday fic! ~gasp~ That was a suprize! You're not supposed to know that!! Bad Wilder....

Well, anyway. Enjoy! And review. It's important, because it makes me feel bad if you don't.

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**Wind**

With the shoji slid open just a crack, and a blanket wrapped firmly around his shoulders, Ukitake watched the snowfall. Large flakes of fluff drifted from a grey sky lazily, a dance Jyuushirou wished he could join one day, knowing he would never be able to. It was a melencholy thought, but he had already accepted it. Oh well, right? No use crying over spilled milk. It was already winter in the Seireitei again, and he remembered last year's nearly muggy cold season. It hadn't snowed nearly this much. Perhaps - he mused fondly, the tiniest of smiles tugging at his exhausted features - perhaps Toushiro was brooding over the stocking full of candy that had been mysteriously placed on his desk last night with no note, but it would have been obvious who had left it. That was why it was so dark and simply depressing today. That seemed valid enough, Ukitake affirmed with a slight shiver. The once soft and fluffy flakes had quickly come one step below hail without warning. Not so beautiful anymore.

Ukitake slung the thin woolen blanket over his head and shut the shoji screen, shuffling back to his bed where a pile of disheveled comforters and pillows lay. How had he managed...? Never mind, _that_ was one of those questions better left unanswered - but whatever he had been dreaming about, it must've been good. He shook the thought and began to straighten out his bed - it just wouldn't do for a captain's quarters to be untidy. Besides that, he had taken a stack of paperwork back with him the night before, and he just couldn't work in a disaster area. Of course, he really didn't feel like doing the paperwork now.... He didn't have to....

But really, what else could one do when practically being snowed in?

With a short sigh, he took his time flattening the wrinkles out of the bedspreads, then sat back on his heels to admire his work. Perfect. Now, on a good snow day, Shunsui would have been there to mess it all right back up. Of course, Jyuushirou would have been angry with him, but he'd have to excuse it. Shunsui would make some cute, slurred remark that only Jyuushirou (who'd had two thousand years of practice) could understand, and just like that he'd be forgiven. It just happened to be one of Shunsui's many charms. More like dirty little tricks. But that would be Shunsui for him... difficult as always.

The wind howled around the building, unsettling Jyuushirou for a short moment. But that was okay. No one liked to be alone in a storm - even a captain. Jyuushirou rose from his desk, placing his quill carefully in the ink well. He drew the curtains shut tightly, stealing a quick glance. It was only getting worse now. Had Toushiro really been that angry over a simple Christmas present? Maybe he didn't celebrate Christmas.... Was that enough incentive to be so furious? Or maybe Toushiro had started it and the weather had taken over.... _That_ was alot more reasonable, and settling. By this point, Toushiro was probably cuddled up in a thick pink blanket in front of a blazing fire, sipping hot chocolate with his fukutaichou-turned-lover at his side.

Shunsui had probably drank himself to warmth.

Rukia would be with Ichigo in the Land of the Living, now.... Did they have the same weather over there as in the Soul Society? Even if they did, the two would be safe and warm inside the Kurosaki home.

And Yamamoto-sutaichou was probably brooding over the snow, keeping all of the First Division warm....

_Lucky_, Ukitake sulked back toward his desk, stopping mid-step to consider his warm futon. How tempting it looked, tucked and smoothed. Was that why Shunsui insisted on messing it up everytime he came over for a drink?

Decidedly giving in to temptation, Jyuushirou turned on his heel and took another step in that direction. Of course, he froze once again, now feeling guilty for neglecting his work when he was perfectly capable of doing it. That kind of lazy idea had probably rubbed off on him from Shunsui, and he pushed it away, looking back over his shoulder at the empty desk. But it was cold over there, and the candle was about to go out. Then, of course, he _was_ supposed to rest whenever possible - it was Unohana's orders. And it was definitely possible now. So he stood there, between his desk and his bed, contemplating over which object needed the most attention.

This... could be awhile....


End file.
